


Manage

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 11:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15193715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: They can only accept the biological realities.





	Manage

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Sort of a prequel to [Praxis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15217103).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek: Voyager or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The bridge is quiet, peaceful, and as much as Kathryn understands her crew’s occasional thirst for _excitement_ , she appreciates this more. The background symphony of tapped buttons and glowing readouts plays on around her, the hum of the deck plates a steady thrum beneath her feet. Her fingers curl around the armrests of her captain’s chair as she reclines back into it. The viewscreen shows a sea of stars, and for a while, Kathryn’s lost in their exotic constellations. Everything is as it should be.

And then a subtle, spicy scent drifts into her, and Kathryn finds herself inhaling deeply. It takes her a second to place the tempting aroma, because every one is individual, but then the more general taste of it clicks into place. Once, such a thing would be quite unusual on the bridge of a Federation starship.

But out in the deep recesses of the Delta quadrant, away from personal doctors, monitoring agencies, and a team of trained Starfleet personal dedicated solely to such schedules, it just can’t be helped. It crops up now and again, and will continue to do so for seventy or so odd years.

By now, Kathryn knows which of her crew could produce it. She knows who’s on duty, and she could discreetly thumb through a list, but it’s easier to simply look about the bridge, trailing over each omega in turn. There are four around nearby, all hard at work, as productive as her alphas and betas.

But one of them has sweat beaded across his brow, a soft flush to his cheeks, and when Kathryn looks straight at him, Harry Kim visibly shudders.

A swell of sympathy washes into her. By the standards of a starship crew, he’s so _young_ —this must be his first heat out amongst the stars. And there’s nothing he can do about it. There are no other ships that can rendezvous and cart him off to a designated planet for a quiet, tactful vacation, and no department to offer up skilled helpers. All they have is each other. And in the small confines of their own little world, news and scents travel fast.

None of them have any privacy. There’s no point pretending otherwise, no point babying him. But before she announces it to everyone, she catches Chakotay’s eye—they can, at least, be ready. They’re both older, experienced and trained, and ready to help in any way they can. Chakotay gives her a knowing nod. She instantly knows that he can smell it too, that he’s come to the same conclusion. But she’s the captain, the prime alpha of their pack, and he leaves her to deal with it.

She turns over her shoulder and calls, as though it’s simply regular ship business, “Mr. Kim, you’ll take today and the next three shifts off.”

Harry’s head darts up. At first, he looks surprised, but he’s a clever man, and understanding quickly washes in, fanning embarrassment across his gentle features. Kathryn asks softly, and with a clear note of invitation, “Would you like anyone to join you?”

To his credit, he doesn’t gape. He just sort of stands there, fidgeting—he’d be squirming if he had a chair. The majority of his peers are pointedly looking away, but she’s sure most of them would respond favourably if called upon.

They don’t have to. Harry opens his mouth, but before he can form a single syllable, Tom Paris loudly interjects, “I volunteer!”

Harry’s mouth instantly clamps shut. His face turns a deep crimson, and another wave of pheromones rolls off of him, strong enough that Kathryn’s breath catches, and she can see Chakotay tensing in her peripherals. Harry smells _delicious_ , and he needs to be off her bridge _immediately_.

She still waits, of course, for Harry’s answer, but she isn’t surprised when he accepts Tom’s offer with a mildly mortified nod. When Kathryn turns back around in her seat, Tom’s grinning like a cat with cream. She tells them both, “Dismissed.”

As soon as Tom’s out of his chair, Ensign Wildman’s slipping into it. Another omega, one who will likely look much less uptight once Harry’s destabilizing energy is gone, moves towards the operations console. When the turbolift’s doors have closed behind Harry and Tom, Chakotay lets out a small sigh of relief.

Kathryn takes a breath of the clear, recycled air. Chakotay murmurs, “It’s going to be a long trip home.”

Kathryn agrees, “Yes.” But she takes comfort in knowing that with each other’s help, they’ll all make do.


End file.
